Before Harry Potter, before the novels, before the films, before the millions
and millions of pounds, there was a little girl who liked to play witches
and wizards. During the sleepy summer months, in the English town of Winterbourne,
a half-hour journey by car from Bristol, Joanne Rowling, then six years
old, first encountered a wizard called Potter. The game of Let's Pretend
was played out in the front garden of number 35 Nicholls Lane, one of a
row of grey brick, three-bedroom houses, into which Pete and Anne Rowling
and their two young daughters had recently moved. The game was Joanne's
idea and involved raiding her mother's cupboard for costumes, the neighbours'
garages for brooms and corralling the children next door to make up the
numbers. Joanne, her younger sister Dianne and friend Vikki were all witches
while the solitary wizard was five-year-old Ian Potter. As he remembered
almost 30 years later: "I used to wear my Dad's long coat back to
front to look like a wizard. I think there were a pair of joke specs in
the box as well - a bit like Harry's."

The life of J K Rowling began with the meeting of two strangers on a train in
1964. Pete Rowling was an 18-year-old soldier when he met Anne Volant, a WREN,
also 18, on the train from King's Cross bound for the headquarters of 45 Commando
in Arbroath. Introductions across the seated compartment led to a long conversation
and stolen kisses beneath duffel coats. By the time they alighted in Scotland,
Pete and Anne were a confirmed couple. A few months into their courtship Anne
became pregnant with her first child, Joanne. The young lovers decided to discard
their uniforms to marry on 14 March 1965 before setting up home in Yate, ten
miles outside Bristol. Four months later, on 31 July 1965, their daughter was
born at the Cottage Hospital, in the more affluent suburb of Chipping Sodbury,
where Rowling would later claim her family lived. While her father secured employment
as an apprentice engineer at a Bristol factory, her mother cared for Joanne and
her sister, Dianne, born two years later on 28 June 1967. A year later the family
moved to the larger house at Winterbourne, where Joanne first discovered the
magical world of books, and created her own adventures in the front garden.

A childhood bout of measles, at the age of four, provided the author's earliest
memory of books, when her father raised her spirits by reading aloud to his bed-bound
daughter the adventures of Toad of Toad Hall, from The Wind
in the Willows. Books
were spread around the house, crammed in every room and although young Joanne
had little interest in the adventures of the Famous Five, she would later praise
the work of Richard Scarry, whose anthropomorphic work inspired her earliest
work of fiction: a story called "Rabbit" written at the age of six.
By this time she was a happy pupil at St Michael's Church of England school,
five minutes' walk from the family home. But another move was afoot. In 1974
her parents purchased an old stone cottage in Tutshill, on the Welsh border,
close to the Forest of Dean, which would become a blueprint for Harry Potter's
Forbidden Forest, just as it had inspired the work of another local author, the
late Dennis Potter.

The idyllic Church Cottage, which had a flagstone floor and a covered well, was
just a goblin's throw from the local graveyard, and was surrounded by countryside
in which the Rowling sisters would enact their adventures. But for the young
JK Rowling, the first day at Tutshill Church of England school in September 1974
was not a success. She scored only half a mark out of ten in a test that led
to her being positioned on the less intellectual side of the class. Her natural
ability soon shone through and she was promoted, but as she explained: "the
promotion was at a cost ... Mrs Morgan made me swap seats with my best friend." The
teacher, Mrs Sylvia Morgan, was a strict, intimidating woman, who frightened
Joanne as a child and whose presence would work its way into the less sympathetic
masters of Hogwarts. By the age of ten, Joanne was a keen Brownie, a voracious
reader and a serious student who raced to get her hand up first. "I was
the epitome of a bookish child, short and squat, thick National Health glasses,
living in a world of complete daydreams."

When she made the move to secondary school, Joanne found herself accompanied
by her mother. After 12 years bringing up her daughters, Anne Rowling secured
the position of lab technician at Wyedean Comprehensive under the supervision
of John Nettleship, the school's head of science. Nettleship remembers Joanne,
whom he taught, as a bright but quiet girl and considers himself an early inspiration
for Professor Snape. "I think chemistry maybe made the most impact on her
because I did teach her about the philosopher's stone, the alchemist's stone.
Possibly she knew about it already, but I did include it in my lessons and explained
how it turned things to gold." He then chuckles before adding: "It
seems to have worked for her, hasn't it." Although bright, she was not the
most enthusiastic student, as Nettleship, who is now retired, recalls: "Her
attitude in the science lessons was more like Harry's in the potions class rather
than Hermione's."

Anne Rowling, meanwhile, was delighted to be around the beakers and chemicals
and working once again after such a long absence. "She was absolutely brilliant,
a sparkling character, totally reliable, very interested in words and stories
and things like that. Although her job was on the technical side, she was also
very imaginative," says Nettleship. A brief encounter with bullying led
Joanne to spend her break walking to the science block to collect her dinner
money, rather than face the intimidating atmosphere of the playground. A larger
girl in her own year picked a fight with her. "I didn't have a choice. It
was hit back or lie down and play dead. For a few days I was quite famous because
she hadn't managed to flatten me. The truth was, my locker was right behind me
and it held me up."

Throughout her teens Rowling honed her taste in reading material. It is unsurprising
that she was greatly influenced by JRR Tolkein's The Lord
of the Rings but she
also loved Jane Austen, whose work Emma she has read over 20 times. Another seminal
influence was Jessica Mitford, whom she adopted as a personal heroine, and whose
biography, Hons and Rebels, became a significant text for Rowling.

But as with all teenagers, Rowling became more and more interested in pop music.
It was the early 1980s and so she was inspired by The Smiths and Siouxsie Sioux,
whose look she adopted early on and maintained for many years; when she began
university she still sported startling back-combed hair and heavy black eyeliner.

At this point Rowling's home was a happy and stable environment. Her father,
Pete, was now an executive engineer at the Rolls Royce plant and her mother was
working in a job she adored. But things were about to change dramatically, casting
a shadow over Rowling's life and tearing apart her close-knit family.

'Home was a difficult place to be'
- JK Rowling on Desert Island Discs

The spectre of her illness first appeared to Anne Rowling in 1978 when her hand
began to tremble while she poured tea. At first the symptoms were fleeting and
she dismissed them with a shrug but over the next two years her loss of physical
control intensified. She began breaking beakers at work and often dissolved in
tears of frustration. On a good day she could still play guitar, but the bad
days began to mount up. When Joanne was 15, her mother was finally diagnosed
with multiple sclerosis. The disease was triggered by the lack of a certain protein
in her spinal column which served to scramble the signals from her brain and
resulted in a loss of control of her limbs. Anne was broken-hearted at having
to give up her lab technician's job, but busied herself by volunteering to clean
the local church. Rowling could only watch helplessly as her mother succumbed
to this destructive disease. In an article the author wrote in Scotland on Sunday,
she described how at one point her mother was reduced to crawling upstairs. The "galloping" progression
of the illness meant that within a few years Anne Rowling moved from walking
with difficulty to using a walking frame and wheelchair.

A depression settled over Church Cottage, leaving Rowling feeling trapped and
miserable. Escape came in the form of a new pupil at Wydean Comprehensive, Sean
Harris, who quickly became a firm friend. In 1982, he drew up outside the family
home in his blue Ford Anglia and whisked her away from the grim stillness of
Tutshill to the concerts and bars of Bristol. He would park under the Severn
Bridge and together the pair dreamt up better futures for each other. Harris's
blue Ford Anglia would become immortalised in Rowling's fiction as Ron Weasley's
family car and he would be described in the dedication in her second book as "getaway
driver and foul weather friend".

Joanne's academic achievements led to her being appointed Head Girl at Wydean
and her ambition was to study languages at Oxford. Her A-levels in English, French
and German (two As and a B) were good enough on paper to secure an Oxbridge place,
but she wasn't accepted. Her teachers were surprised, believing she was the victim
of institutional prejudice against comprehensive pupils. The dreaming spires
of Oxford were instead replaced by the red-brick halls of residence at the University
of Exeter.

Lecturers remember Rowling as nervous and insecure, but a fellow student, Yvette
Cowles, told Sean Smith, her biographer, that she was popular and striking. "She
wore long skirts and used to have this blue denim jacket she liked to wear. Jo
was very shapely and she had this big hair, kind of back -combed and lacquered,
and lots of heavy eyeliner. I think she was quite popular with the guys." In
her first year she signed up for French and Classics but an attitude to academia
best described as minimum work, maximum fun led to her abandoning Classics after
she failed to register properly for an exam. Her third year was spent teaching
in a school in Paris and sharing a flat with an Italian, a Russian and a Spaniard.
She found the Italian disagreeable and would avoid him by spending whole days
in her room reading. During this time she read Charles Dickens' A
Tale of Two Cities, a literary discovery that may have influenced her alleged intention to
kill off Harry Potter at the end of book seven. The death of Charles Darnay,
sacrificing his life for a friend, and his moving last words had a major impact
on Rowling: "It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done;
it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."

Anne Rowling attended her daughter's graduation in 1987 in a wheelchair and watched
with pride as she was awarded a 2: 2 in French. The next four years were to see
her daughter work through a variety of temporary jobs including posts with Amnesty
International and the Manchester Chamber of Commerce, a post so brief there is
no record of her ever being there. During this time she began a parallel life
as a writer, toiling over two adult novels which were never published, and developing
a passion for classical music. It was while Rowling drifted aimlessly through
these years that the most important moment of her life occurred. In summer 1990,
Rowling's boyfriend had moved to Manchester and she found herself returning to
London by train after a weekend spent flat-hunting with him. Quite spontaneously
during that trip an idea took shape: "All of a sudden the idea for Harry
just appeared in my mind's eye. I can't tell you why or what triggered it. But
I saw the idea of Harry and the wizard school very plainly. I suddenly had this
basic idea of a boy who didn't know who he was, who didn't know he was a wizard
until he got his invitation to wizard school. I have never been so excited by
an idea."

The birth of Harry Potter was followed six months later by the death of her mother.
Anne Rowling passed away on 30 December 1990 at 45. Joanne had visited home six
days earlier but had not realised the seriousness of her mother's illness. "She
was extremely thin and looked exhausted. I don't know how I didn't realise how
ill she was, except that I had watched her deteriorate for so long that the change,
at the time, didn't seem so dramatic." The death of her mother sent Rowling
into a tailspin. Within months her relationship ended, she moved into a hotel
and would soon leave the country altogether.

An advert in the Guardian for English teachers in Portugal held out the
promise of warmth and a fresh start. Rowling was soon living in the bustling
city of Porto in a shared flat with Aine Kiely, from Cork, and an English
girl, Jill Prewett. Between 5pm and 10pm the trio taught classes at the
Encounter English School before heading out to Swing, the town's largest
nightclub. Rowling spent her days in local cafes, sipping strong coffee
and writing in longhand the first draft of the first Harry Potter. Maria
Ines Augiar was the school's assistant director and became a close friend,
remembering Rowling as a "very nervous person, anxious" and one
who was "desperate for love." Only after she had been resident
in the country for 18 months did Rowling find love, albeit briefly, with
Jorge Arantes, a dashing journalism student three years her junior.

Arantes was drinking with friends in Meia Cava, a downstairs bar when, as he
recalled: "This girl with the most amazing blue eyes walked in." He
approached her and began to chat in English and found they were both fans of
Jane Austen. The night ended with an exchange of kisses and phone numbers and
within a couple of days they were sleeping together. But if Arantes, who had
an abundance of Latin machismo, thought he could treat her in a casual manner,
he was mistaken, as his new girlfriend made clear when he began chatting to other
girls while they were on a date. Rowling approached him and whispered in his
ear that it was her or them. She won that contest, but a volatile passion came
to exist between the pair. Against the odds their relationship continued, with
Rowling providing money through her work, which Arantes spent while looking for
employment he never seemed to find.

The couple had been together for only a few months when Rowling became pregnant,
just as Arantes embarked on eight months' national service. They agreed that
Rowling would move in with Arantes's mother, who lived in a small two-bedroom
apartment on the rua Duque de Saldanha, and await his return. Unfortunately the
pregnancy ended in miscarriage. The disappointment brought them closer together
and on 28 August 1992 Arantes proposed. Friends in Portugal were taken aback
when Rowling accepted. Maria Ines Augiar believed Jorge to be both possessive
and jealous, while Steve Cassidy, who ran the school where Rowling worked, viewed
him as rough and untrustworthy. His perception was not altered by an incident
at the language school prior to their wedding. The couple had been drinking coffee
in a cafe across the street when an argument broke out during which Jorge violently
pushed his fiancee. Rowling burst into tears and ran back to the school, but
the intensity of Jorge's outburst led one onlooker to inform the police, who
arrived to find a large crowd surrounding Arantes as he cried: "Joanne,
forgive me, I love you." According to Maria Ines Augiar, Rowling was soon
shouting back: "I love you, Jorge."

The marriage lasted 13 months and one day. Later, when Rowling was writing Harry
Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban, she had one character, Professor Trelawney,
inform a pupil that the thing he was most fearful of would take place on 16 October
- the date of her wedding in 1992. The ceremony took place in Porto's registry
office and was attended by Rowling's sister, Dianne, and her boyfriend. Photographs
suggest a subdued affair with Rowling in black holding a bunch of deep red flowers.
The girls' father did not attend. The speed of his decision to move in with his
secretary, after his wife's death, distressed both sisters and a fault-line now
separated them and their father.

The marital home remained that of Arantes's mother and was far from happy. Two
months after the ceremony Rowling found herself pregnant once again. She continued
her job and, worryingly, discovered she was losing weight due to the stress of
arguments with Arantes. Prior to the birth of her daughter, Jessica, named after
Jessica Mitford, on 27 July 1993, Rowling's friends were urging her to leave
her husband, but she was determined to make her marriage work. Arantes's behaviour
made this impossible. Rowling has never spoken publicly about her marriage, except
to dismiss her former husband's claims to have helped shape the first Potter
novel, with the withering line: "He had as much input into Harry Potter
as I had in A Tale of Two Cities."

But Arantes has described his shameful and violent behaviour. The extent of the
domestic violence Rowling endured is not known, but Arantes admits slapping her "very
hard" early in the morning of 17 November 1993 and throwing her out of the
house without her daughter. When Rowling returned the following day with Maria
Ines Augiar, a policeman accompanied them and it did not take long before Jessica
was handed over.

For two weeks Joanne and Jessica stayed in hiding with friends whom Arantes did
not know. Then she boarded a flight to Britain and flew from Arantes and his
terrifying temper. Her precious cargo included a cherished daughter and three
chapters about Harry Potter, her surrogate son.

Trains run through JK Rowling's life with time-tabled frequency. Her
parents met on a train, the idea for Harry Potter was first conceived on
a train and now in the winter of 1993, a train carried both mother and
daughter north towards a new life in Scotland.

After arriving back in Britain, Rowling had nowhere else to turn. Her father
had re-married Janet Gallivan, his secretary, and relations were strained, but
Dianne had recently married in Edinburgh and swung open her door. Despite her
sister's hospitality, the next few years were to be Rowling's nadir. Although
never quite as bad as the press has painted in terms of poverty - she always
had food and clothes, heat and light - Rowling did endure a deep depression brought
about by circumstance and frustration.

For the first few weeks Rowling and her daughter stayed with her sister Dianne
and restaurateur brother-in-law, Roger Moore, in their home in Marchmont Road,
but it was an arrangement that could not continue indefinitely. A small flat
at 28 Gardner's Crescent was organised by social services. So began Rowling's
experience of government bureaucracy as she was forced to fill in endless forms
and attend demeaning interviews in order to secure a weekly allowance of GBP
69. A Christmas present she received only added to the gloom. REM's new album,
Automatic For The People, was viewed by critics as their nihilistic best and
Rowling seized on the spirit-sapping track, Everybody Hurts, which she began
to play incessantly.

The New Year brought with it a new flat, but her depression deepened. Shortly
after her return to Britain her old friend Sean Harris had offered to lend her
money, but she refused. By mid-winter she was so unhappy in Gardner's Crescent
that she changed her mind and borrowed GBP 600 from him to use as a deposit on
a rented flat.

Finding one was more difficult than she thought and it was only after enduring
rejection after rejection from owners unwilling to rent to an unemployed single
mother, that she secured the keys to a flat in South Lorne Place. It was a harled
and brickfaced four-storey flat, furnished thanks to contributions from friends.
It was here that Rowling was overcome by a feeling of hopelessness.

Her despair was compounded by the arrival in March 1994 of her estranged husband
in search of his wife and daughter.

Since her departure from Porto, Arantes had succumbed to drug abuse and his wife
was so concerned for the safety of her and her daughter that she was forced to
obtain an Action of Interdict - an order of restraint that prevented Arantes
from molesting, abusing her verbally, threatening her or putting her in a state
of fear and alarmby using violence towards her anywhere within the sheriffdomof
Edinburgh.

Arantes returned to Portugal and Rowling filed for divorce in August 1994.

The sense that she was failing her daughter was unbearable to Rowling. Whenever
she visited the homes of other mothers, Rowling gazed covetously at their children's
bright bundles of toys. Her own daughter's toys could fit comfortably into a
shoe box. Yet when an insensitive, if wellmeaning, health visitor brought around
a raggedy teddy-bear and a small plastic phone she binned them in a fit of shame.

Only after a period of counselling was she able to tackle her depression and
begin writing again. But once she did, it was the writing that elevated her self-worth.
The first three chapters of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's
Stone had made
her sister laugh, a reaction that kindled hope in Rowling.

In the long evenings at home, with little else to do, she set about working on
further chapters. In the mythology of JK Rowling, Nicolson's restaurant is where
the majority of Harry Potter was written. Yet the brightly coloured restaurant
has now gone, long since replaced by a Chinese restaurant, the Buffet King. The
new owner, Winnie Yau still receives pilgrims from all over the world, asking
about the building's most famous customer.

Rowling went to Nicolson's either as a respite from a freezing flat or through
a passion for good coffee, depending on which version you believe. Nicolson's
was scarcely convenient, half a mile from her flat and at the top of 20 steps,
quite a hike for a mother with a young child in a push-chair, but it was owned
by her brother-in-law which allowed her to draw out a single coffee over a few
hours, and the primary colours in which it was painted couldn't help but lift
even the most despondent visitor. A second establishment she visited regularly
was the Elephant House, on George IV bridge, whose much patronised back room
has windows overlooking Greyfriars cemetery.

A sign at the entrance now reads: Experience the same atmosphere that JK Rowling
did as she mulled over a coffee, writing the first Harry Potter novel.

The writing of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was slow. Rowling wrote
in long-hand then typed up the finished work on a second-hand manual typewriter.
In the meantime she needed a job. At first she took on secretarial work for a
few hours each week, but a full-time job was a necessity. She wanted a career,
not just a means to make money and so applied to study for a postgraduate certificate
of education in modern languages at Moray House, now part of Edinburgh University.
A small grant was supplemented by a generous friend and in August 1995 she became
a student once again. Staff at St David's High School on Dalkeith Road and Leith
Academy, where she taught as part of her teaching training, remember her as keen
and well-organised.

She graduated in June1996 around which time she heard the news that Harry Potter
was to be published at last.

'The purest most unalloyed joy was when I finally knew it was going to be a book,
a real book you could see sitting on the shelf of a bookshop' - JK Rowling

When the manuscript of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's
Stone was finished,
early in the New Year of 1996, Rowling visited Edinburgh Central Library to look
up the Writers' and Artists' Year Book in search of a literary agent. Her first
approach had been unsuccessful: a brief rejection letter. She then posted a sample
of three chapters and a covering letter to Christopher Little Literary Agents,
based in Fulham. It was here that a young reader, Bryony Evans, read the first
chapter and laughed. Evans passed the chapters to Fleur Howle, a freelance reader,
who agreed with her assessment and together they persuaded Little to sign up
Rowling. A few days later Rowling received a letter asking for the remainder
of the manuscript. The agency sent Rowling's 200-page script to 12 publishers,
all of whom, to their eternal regret, turned down the book. Harper Collins showed
interest but was too slow in formulating a bid and so the first book by the most
lucrative writer in the world was picked up by Bloomsbury for an advance of GBP
1,500.

When Barry Cunningham, head of children's fiction at Bloomsbury, invited Rowling
to lunch in London, he praised her book but told her to be prepared as there
was no financial reward in children's books. Rowling did not care. To hold a
hardback copy in her hand was reward enough. Yet prior to publication she would
prove him wrong.

Anxious to finish the second novel, Harry Potter and the
Chamber of Secrets,
Rowling applied for a grant from The Scottish Arts Council and was awarded GBP
8,000 that allowed her to purchase a word processor and steady her turbulent
finances. The publication date for Harry Potter and the
Philosopher's Stone was
set at 26 June 1997 and Joanne Rowling was re-christened JK Rowling. Christopher
Little had discovered that boys were unlikely to read a book written by a girl
and so pushed for Bloomsbury to use the ambiguous initials in order to attract
both sexes.

But before Harry Potter and Hagrid, Hermione and Ron Weasley, Professors Albus
Dumbledore and Severus Snape could bewitch the children of Britain, they had
cast a collective spell over an American publisher. Arthur Levine, the editorial
director of Scholastic Books, a large American publishing house, first read the
novel at 36,000ft as he flew over the Atlantic to attend the Bologna Book Fair.
He became so engrossed that he had no wish to land. Little had organised an auction
for the American publishing rights to Harry Potter and Levine became determined
to be the highest bidder. Three days after the British publication Rowling received
a call from her agent to say that Scholastic had bid $100,000 - an unprecedented
sum - for a children's book that already had the makings of a phenomenon.

In the autumn of 1999 JK Rowling arrived in America for yet another nation
-wide tour. The Prisoner of Azkaban, her third novel in as many years,
had just been released three months after its British edition, a delay
that had caused thousands of eager Americans to order Bloomsbury editions
over the internet. Her American publishers, Scholastic, were anxious to
develop Rowling's profile with a series of book signing sessions. Previous
tours in 1997 and 1998 had seen the number of excited children and patient
parents rise from dozens to a few hundred. No one expected to see thousands.
As one store manager later explained: "It's the nearest I've ever
seen to Beatlemania with books."

When Rowling's black Lincoln arrived at Politics and Prose, a popular Washington
book store, and Rowling saw a queue that snaked out the door and two blocks back,
she assumed there was some kind of sale. On that visit she managed to sign 1,400
copies before her handlers dragged her on to the next event. The same delighted
crowds of children and, for the first time, unaccompanied adults, met her at
every city on the tour. Chat show hosts such as Katie Couric of the Today Show
and Rosie O'Donnell were delighted to share their sofa with the hottest author
in America.

In the season of Hallowe'en, Harry Potter reached critical mass and exploded.
Across the country six giant printing presses were spinning 24 hours a day to
maintain demand for his three adventures. The New York Times had JK Rowling at
the first three slots on their bestseller lists and would eventually have to
a create a new children's book list in order to evict her. Time magazine placed
the boy wizard in the company of world leaders when it granted him a cover story.
When embarking on the writer's life, the height of Rowling's ambition was for
a sales assistant to recognise her name off her credit card and declare herself
a fan. "In my wildest fantasy I could not have imagined anything like this," she
told Katie Couric on the Today Show that autumn. "I could not even come
close."

In Britain the books had been a slow steady burn. Harry
Potter and the Philosopher's Stone had a first print run of 1,000 copies, but Bloomsbury knew they had a hit
when new orders began to arrive and the book ran into reprint after reprint.
British sales had been assisted through the publicity generated by her $ 100,000
advance in America. Although in later years Rowling would have cause to regret
her portrayal as "poverty-stricken single mum makes good", those stories
gave her a profile most first-time authors could only dream about. Yet all the
hype and publicity would have faded like the steam off a cauldron if children
had not grasped the books as their own. Teachers and parents who presented the
novel to their children could almost hear an audible "click." They
got Harry Potter and they wouldn't let him go. The first Harry Potter sold 70,000
copies in the first year and won the Smarties Prize for Children's Literature.

The $ 100,000 from Scholastic for the American rights had allowed Rowling to
purchase a two-bedroom flat in Hazelbank Terrace. Jessica soon settled into Craiglockhart
Primary School and a nanny was hired to allow Rowling extra time to write and
attend signings and readings. While Rowling remained nervous and unsure around
adults and particularly during interviews, she adored visiting schools and attending
children's events. By the time her second novel, Harry Potter
and the Chamber of Secrets was released in June 1998, an anxious audience was already waiting.
The book became a number one bestseller and the hype continued to build, this
time infecting adults who overcame their embarrassment to lose themselves in
a pacy, humorous read. In order to lasso a wider audience and spare the blushes
of commuters, Bloomsbury released the books with moody adult covers.

Rowling's ambition was to release one book a year for seven years, taking young
Harry up to graduation and no further. By the time the Prisoner
of Azkaban was
released in June 1999 Rowling was on the verge of her first million and had maintained
her tight writing schedule. She had also taken the next step towards ensuring
her creation's global dominance - a film deal with Warner Brothers had finally
been agreed. An executive at Heyday Films, Tania Seqhatchian, had read the first
Potter book, spotted its potential and passed it onto her boss, David Heyman,
an experienced producer who was representing the Hollywood studio in Britain.

Christopher Little, Rowling's agent, was aware of the tremendous potential in
the film-rights and urged a slow, cautious approach, while the author herself
was highly protective. "I would do everything to prevent Harry Potter from
turning up on fast food boxes," explained Rowling. "That would be my
worst nightmare." The deal Rowling finally consented to gave her unprecedented
powers for an author, who is usually handed a cheque with one hand and shown
to the door with the other. Under the deal she took a lower fee, said to be around
$ 1 million, but had veto on the director, the script and merchandising ideas.

Rowling showed she shared the pluck of Harry Potter when she disagreed with Steven
Spielberg, who took an interest in directing the film. The director of ET and
Raiders of the Lost Ark wished to merge the plots of the first two books and
cast Haley Joel Osment, the American child actor who starred in The Sixth Sense
as Harry Potter. Rowling insisted each film tackle one book and that Harry had
to be British. Spielberg walked away.

The Harry Potter phenomenon was to be driven by America, where 55 per cent of
all Rowling books are sold, and it was there, at the buckle of the bible belt,
that the backlash began. In autumn 1999 the board of education in South Carolina
agreed to review whether the novels should be available in schools after receiving
complaints from parents. One outraged mother criticised them for possessing "a
serious tone of death, hate, lack of respect and sheer evil." A few Christian
schools in Australia banned them on account of their tone, but the Catholic Church
later rode to their defence and praised them for instructing children on good
and evil. For the feminist academic, Dr Elizabeth Heilman, the trouble was not
broomsticks, but boys. The males were forever rescuing the females, who, she
believed, were "giggly, emotional, gossipy and anti-intellectual." It
was a charge Rowling dismissed out of hand. The more serious charge of plagiarism
levelled by Nancy Stouffer required the judgement of the American courts.

Stouffer was the author of The Legend of Rah and the Muggles, a children's book
published in 1984 that featured a hero called Larry Potter, who also had black
hair with glasses. In her book Muggles were imps, in Rowling's work it is a term
given to ordinary non-magic folk - but still Stouffer believed she was the inspiration
for a now mutli-million dollar success story. Rowling defended the case through
the courts and was vindicated in September 2002.

By the time Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was published in July 2000, Rowling
was struggling to cope with her new status. The pressure to complete her longest
novel to date had been intense, compounded by a plotting error that forced her
to rip-up chapters and begin again. The manuscript was delivered in March and
so concerned were her publishers about plot leaks that it was placed in a safe.
Bloomsbury's marketing campaign meant no copy was available to anyone prior to
the publication date, 8 July, and even the title was a closely guarded secret,
to be revealed as part of a slow press campaign. The result was the fastest-selling
book in Britain, where one million copies were eventually sold. The book sold
more than five million in America.

The success of her books had made Rowling inaccessible to fans. Book signings
were increasingly difficult due to the volume of demand. When Bloomsbury converted
King's Cross into Platform 9 3/4 from which the Hogwarts Express departs in her
books, Rowling was unable to meet the children who had gathered because of the
press scrum and could only shout an apology out the window as the antique train
hired for the event steamed off. She had greater success at communicating her
message at Exeter University, where she returned that summer to collect an honorary
degree, urging the students never to fear failure.

Rowling's success in cash terms was staggering. The Sunday
Times Rich list of
2001 estimated her wealth at GBP 65 million, a sum Rowling used to insulate herself
from the world. The small flat in Hazelbank Terrace was donated to a close friend,
a fellow single-mother, while Rowling and Jessica moved into a Georgian mansion
in Merchiston whose eight feet high wall would deter even the most intrusive
snooper. She also paid GBP 4.5 million for a second home in London's Kensington,
complete with indoor swimming pool. A country house on the banks of the River
Tay called Killiechassie was added to her property portfolio in 2001. In previous
years Rowling was regularly spotted around Edinburgh in cafes and restaurants,
but her success restricted her movements to dinner parties with friends. When
Giles Gordon, the literary agent, announced in his column in the Edinburgh
Evening News that the author regularly frequented Margiotta, the popular city deli, Rowling
never returned.

The next stage of the Potter phenomenon was triggered by the success of the first
film, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Rowling approved Chris Columbus
as director and was delighted by the casting of Daniel Radcliffe as Harry and
pleased that Robbie Coltrane had accepted the role of Hagrid. Writing on the
next book was set aside as she discussed set designs and script notes, and watched
rushes on what would become, after Titanic, the second -biggest film of all time
grossing $ 926 million and creating millions of new readers. Escorting Rowling
to the premieres in London and Edinburgh was Dr Neil Murray, an anaesthesiologist
whom she had met at a friend's dinner party. Murray, then separated from the
wife whom he later divorced, brought love and a new balance into Rowling's life.

The couple married on Boxing Day 2001 in a private ceremony at Killiechassie
attended by close friends and family including her father, with whom relations
had thawed, and his second wife. The couple's first child, a boy, was born in
March 2003 and the world breathed a sigh of relief when it was announced he would
be christened David and not Harry.

There are now only four days to endure before the publication of Harry
Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and Rowling can gaze with considerable pride on
what her work has achieved. In just six years more than 160 million Harry Potter
books have been sold in more than 100 countries, both films have achieved box
office records and a Harry Potter duvet set brought a little financial light
to a despondent Marks & Spencer. Harry Potter licensing deals have been
struck with the biggest companies in the world, with Coca-Cola bidding GBP 65
million for the rights. Next week Rowling will become the first artist since
Madonna to participate in a live-webcast at the Albert Hall, at which 4,000 children
have the chance to ask her questions as Stephen Fry tries to contain them. Even
Prince Charles has swooned in her presence, commenting: "I'm staggered that
someone can write so beautifully."

The tragedy for fans is that they are one book closer to the end. The final chapter
has already been written and is tucked in a yellow folder in an anonymous safety
deposit box. We may think we're experiencing a literary phenomenon - but just
wait until that box is unlocked ...

It was, she later said, "the best moment" in "one of the
best weeks of my life." It was the summer of 1998, and JK Rowling
was touring the country reading extracts from her second book, Harry
Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. She had just finished a reading and the children
had begun to drift away when a mother approached her for a quiet word.
She explained that her nine-year-old son was dyslexic and Harry Potter
was the first book he had ever managed to finish on his own. "She
said she'd burst into tears when she found him reading it in bed the morning
after she'd read the first two chapters aloud to him." Rowling recalled. "I'm
not sure I managed to convey to her what a wonderful thing that was to
hear, because I thought I was going to cry too."

That scene has since been repeated in bookshops, libraries and schoolrooms across
the globe, as the adventures of Harry Potter have drawn an entire generation,
previously bewitched by television and computer games, back to the traditional
comfort of a book. Rowling's Harry Potter novels have been a godsend to teachers
and parents who feared they could not open a book in front of a child without
evoking a yawn. This love of reading in young children is part of a long legacy
spawned by the Harry Potter books and by Rowling herself. It has been noted,
too, that Harry Potter has become a trusted guide through the difficulties of
childhood, tackling fears, death and disappointment in a most admirable manner.

"We cannot sing the praises of Rowling high enough," says Charlie Griffiths,
director of the National Literacy Association. "Anyone who can persuade
children to read should be treasured and what she's given us in Harry Potter
is little short of miraculous. To see children queuing outside a store, not for
concert tickets or computer games, but for a book, is brilliant."

Griffiths says that the books themselves rise above the massive publicity campaigns
that now surround the release of a new Harry Potter book.

"I know people will insist it's all down to clever marketing, but if there
is not a story that a child wants to read then no amount of marketing will persuade
them. Her novels have created positive peer pressure in favour of reading. A
child might not have that great an interest in reading but he wants to keep up
with his friends and so he'll get sucked in. She's also helped shine a light
on other wonderful children's writers."

The works of Jacqueline Wilson, Philip Pullman, Lemony Snicket and Eoin Colfer
have all been given a boost by young readers who, having torn through the four
Potter novels, are anxious to kill time before the release of the fifth. In an
unprecedented reversal, Harry Potter has also been responsible for the swelling
hordes of adults reading children's literature. It is unlikely, for example,
that Sir Tom Stoppard would be scripting an adaptation of Pullman's Northern
Lights trilogy were it not for the interest in children's fiction triggered by
Rowling. Children remain her principal audience, though, and there is no way
to quantify the sheer delight and happiness she has brought to their lives. As
one Scots mother explained it: "She's made bedtime less of a struggle than
it once was and for that alone I'm grateful."

But Rowling is determined that her legacy will encompass more than book sales
and pencil cases. It will be to make a difference to the lives of those who struggle.
She's determined to reduce the stigma attached to single mothers, ease the pain
borne by MS sufferers and simultaneously raise their standard of care. She has
said she will not be satisfied until Scotland has a chain of centres designed
to comfort and support those with cancer. She has invested her publicity, time
and generosity into issues she can relate to, rather than adopting a scattergun
approach. Today she is a patron of three charities; the National Council for
One Parent Families, the MS Society of Scotland and Maggie's Centre.

To One Parent Families she donated GBP 500,000 and in September 2000 accepted
an offer to become their ambassador, a role she has taken to heart. Far more
valuable than her money is her time and the attention she can draw to an issue
often neglected. An article she wrote for the Sun newspaper attacked the public
perception of single parents as careless teenagers, pointing out that 60 per
cent are separated, divorced or bereaved. "We are all doing two people's
jobs single-handed before we even start looking for paid work and, as I found
out the hard way, we have to fight twice as hard to get half as far," she
wrote.

When Ann Widdecombe had the temerity to suggest that married couples were the
norm, Rowling retaliated in a speech at a charities conference attended by Gordon
Brown. "We may not be some people's preferred norm but we are here," she
declared, before adding: "We should judge how civilised a society is not
by what it prefers to call normal but by how it treats its most vulnerable members." The
author has continued to support the organisation even though her second marriage
means she no longer falls into the category.

Personal experience of the assistance Edinburgh's Maggie's Centre provided to
a friend with breast cancer led her to offer her patronage to the organisation.
The aim of Maggie's Centres is to provide cancer sufferers a place where they
can receive information and support. Situated close to hospitals that provide
treatment, plans are currently afoot to build another six across Scotland. By
attending charity functions and organising readings, Rowling has helped raise
thousands of pounds for Maggie's. Marie McQuade, the charity's fundraiser, says
her backing is invaluable. "Her endorsement has raised awareness and we're
delighted with her support." As Rowling declares in the centre's annual
report: "I saw with my own eyes the difference that Maggie's Centre made
to a very good friend of mine."

The charity to which she has the strongest bond, however, is the MS Society of
Scotland. It is a cause close to her heart. Rowling's mother was crippled by
the disease and it eventually killed her. She donated a large sum to help fund
a senior fellowship in MS research at Aberdeen University, and last year she
hosted a Halloween ball at Stirling Castle which raised GBP 280,000.

Of deep concern to Rowling is the fact that Scotland has the highest MS rate
in the world, twice that of England and Wales, for entirely unknown reasons.
There is no national standard of care with treatment varying wildly across the
country, and a crucial drug entitled beta-interferon is under-prescribed. "She's
in it for the long haul," says Mark Hazelwood, director of MS Scotland. "She
has a deep and personal concern about MS because she has experienced how it affected
her mother. She may attract press and publicity when she visits our centres but
when the media have moved on she stays for a few hours just talking to people
and I think that says a lot."

Rowling's legacy stretches to the cinema too. The Harry Potter movies could yet
be the most successful series of films in history. If Warner Brothers continue
to produce a film for each book, the result could be $ 5 billion in box office
receipts and billions more in merchandise and DVD sales. Daniel Radcliffe, the
actor who plays Harry, is set to bow out after the third film, but a substitute
will be secured and the magic will roll on. The Harry Potter film franchise is
a gravy train that will not be derailed. This level of success in film and literature
is unparalleled. JRR Tolkien was dead for decades before the Lord of the Rings
trilogy was released, and Ian Fleming saw only Dr No before he died, while other
bestselling authors such as Stephen King have seen adaptations of their work
flop at the box office. In a decade's time a boxed set of all seven films is
sure to be a feature in many homes, as traditional at Christmas as The Wizard
of Oz or It's A Wonderful Life.

It now looks likely that Rowling will live to see her net worth surpass GBP 1
billion, the first author ever to do so. But she is grounded enough to know that
her most personal legacy remains her two children. Her success in shielding her
daughter Jessica, who no-one has ever legitimately photographed - those who did
so illicitly were rapped by the Press Complaints Council - looks set to be repeated
with her son, David. Meanwhile, the incredible wealth the books have generated
allows Rowling to focus on what remains her primary purposes, her family and
her writing.

The final chapter of Harry Potter's saga lies written, locked in a safety deposit
box. For the next few years Rowling will work towards reaching that chapter in
adventures that will span two more books. The questions remains, what then? There
are two things to consider. One is the reaction of children around the globe
if the long rumoured climax is true and Harry, as children sometimes do, actually
dies. The collective sadness of an entire generation would be palpable and who
could judge the consequences of an authorial execution? It is this which spurs
fans confidence that she will stay her hand, entwining Harry instead in a romantic
ending with Hermione.

Whichever veil she chooses to draw over her multi-book saga, readers will never
forget the boy with the lightning-bolt scar. This, in turn, will cast a long
shadow over any adult books that flow from her pen. One challenge will be whether
she can resist the temptation to return to the ivy draped cloisters of Hogwarts
or to trace Harry's adult adventures. Whether her success will be replicated
in the world of adult fiction, something she has expressed an interest in trying
when she has finished the Potter canon, remains to be seen.

The ultimate legacy of JK Rowling is to create a character that will be read
long after she is gone and will sit in the same company as Bilbo Baggins, Peter
Pan and Alice in Wonderland. An immortal wizard is how Harry Potter will be remembered,
one who had the power to charm the world.